Thursday, December 28, 2006

Ketchup & stuff

Did everyone have a nice Christmas or your specific holiday of a personal religion/non-religion or just an extra day off from putting up with stupid co-workers and their lame bullshit? I know I did!

I had another typical weekend of ups and downs, good stuff and bad and one near vivisection of a fucking asshole who thought it would be OK to push me into a stack of bushes at Sea World.

Someday I'm actually going to take 4 days off in a row and not run around like a maniac leaving certain things to the last minute (Walmart again!), having to brave public places and talk to people. Instead I'll not get out of my pajamas, eat a diet consisting of chips & dip and watch bad horror movies. I might even go unwashed. I have goals, you know. But all-in-all it was a lovely extended weekend.


The slightly bad stuff:

Last Thursday I got home, after braving 92 minutes of fuck-ass holiday traffic, to find a Christmas card and braggy-brag letter from my (ex) friend K. I've written about K in this blog several times before, it's all buried in the archives somewhere, and our ultimate demise as friends a couple of years ago (totally HER fault.)

K and I were introduced as neighbors the year we turned 6 and lived across the street from each other for 17 years. Now we're both heading to our 40th birthday's in 2007 and all the many years in between have been met with an endless supply of girl-problems and fights and a million very hard times. You ladies know the drill.

My relationship with K has always been difficult and there was always our other friend J mucking it up to hell too. You just can't have 3 little girls hanging out together, it won't work. Two's company, three's a crowd, I was always the crowd, yada yada. It wasn't pleasant a lot of the time is which is a nice version of they were horrible often.

Anyway, there's too many stories about that to tell but the bottom line is K acted like the worst jerk in the entire universe when I was diagnosed with cancer and for whatever excuse of the week she came up with treated me like shit and we stopped talking because fuck you, I had (and have) enough to deal with I don't need to keep a relationship going that's the equivalent of eating a shit sandwich every day. Plus she did unforgivable things, in my opinion, so fuck it.

Problem is, I was like a member of her family. Her parents were my surrogates (I have no family here in this town), they were friends with my parents, we all had over 30 years invested in knowing and loving each other and the whole fucking thing has remained an open wound with me for the last 3 years. When I stopped talking to K I also stopped talking to her whole family by default. Now, mind you, my phone hasn't rung but I didn't dial it either so I supposed we're all to blame.

So in this letter, after I hear about how great her kid is doing and how awesome her husband is and how incredible all of their European fancy trips were she saves the last paragraph to tell everyone that her mother's cancer came back this year and was determined to be terminal in August, they almost lost her in early December but everyone's confident she'll be around through New Year's.


So typical. I was immediately sickened and furious that once again, neither K or our other useless friend J had had the balls to contact me about this in any way. And I'd just talked to J about 3 months ago! While I vacillated between anguish and fantasizing about punching some bitches in the face, and crying, I decided enough was enough. It was time to heal some wounds and make my stubborn feet take the first step.

I called K's dad on Friday and his excitement at hearing my voice nearly made my throat shut tight. We set up a time to get together on Saturday and boy was I nervous. I went over with a bottle of wine and a couple of framed photos of mine as a gift and once I got past the inner shock of how frail and aged she looked (and acted) I was just so fucking relieved to be there again. With her holding my hand and telling me how much they love me, cracking some jokes and catching up on everyone's lives, it was like old times. Sort of.

I cried on-and-off and of course the subject of K and J and their shitty stuff came up and K's dad gruffed and growled and said us girls just needed to get the fuck over it but dude, we don't do that. We are chicks. The harboring of hurt feelings last forever. K's mom said we needed to all get together and fix this crap once and for all because it would be a gift to her. And how can you deny a dying woman something like that? You simply can't.

I'm going over this coming Saturday armed again with booze and my self-worth and who knows what will come of it. I've promised not to "rehash old things" which sucks because boy, would I like to rehash them. I'd like to rehash them with a mighty ass-kicking, finger pointing and scary screaming, but I won't.

And I figure if this can close an open and perpetually painful chapter in my life all the better for me. I can be there for someone who's at the end of her too-short life, be around people that I've loved almost my entire existance and hang out again for the short time I'll still be living here. Hell, maybe I'll be able to stop these damn bad dreams I constantly have about it. I just need to watch my alcohol intake so the sharp-tongued truth monster in me will not be unleashed. Wish me luck.

Update: No need to wish me luck. I got home tonight to find an e-mail from K thanking me for visiting her mom and cancelling our meeting on Saturday. Looks like she hasn't lost any of her selfish ways in the last 2 years. Unbelievable.

The stupid stuff:

Sunday whitey and I decided...OK. Not whitey and I. Me, it was all me, it was my idea and he obliged because he's good like that. We left the house. In a very crowded tourist town known for its near-perfect year-round weather that attracts many people, a lot of whom are annoying and clueless as hell, and went to Sea World. Oh my god. What was I thinking? Why did I even fathom that this world-renown place wouldn't be packed with crazy people on a holiday weekend.

Well, I'll tell you why. Because 2 years ago we went there on New Year's day and the place was virtually empty. It was awesome. We didn't stand in line behind any screaming kids or sweaty men from Oklahoma. We got to do and go wherever we wanted. The animals were active and not over-stimulated from being poked and prodded by a zillion freaks all day and the weather was perfect. I was tricked by a fluke.

So we went. And it was packed. And an older lady elbowed me in the tit then a rude guy nearly shoved me into a scratchy looking bush and I had to get a little rough and we tried to see the sharks without success and it was horrible crowded just like it was a few months ago and we had to leave. Which is a bummer because we have free passes that expire on the 31st and I want to do things in San Diego that I'll probably never get to do again once we move away but bah, it wasn't to be.

Then we got stuck running retarded errands for hours and I had a sugar crash and whining fit and Big Macs should not be eaten in the car in a parking lot in front of a grocery store because it makes you drop a plop of ketchup on your current favorite white t-shirt!! We finally made it home and I put myself on a time out and took a nap and everything was cool again. But don't rent Talladega Nights. YAWN.


The really great stuff:

Christmas day was so very nice. I got up early and wrapped the last remaining packages I needed to and tried to fake my boy out by weighting down a big box with soup cans then putting a gift certificate for Guitar Center inside. By the way, NEVER setting FOOT inside THERE again. Game Stop is bad enough, gettin' the stink of gaming nerds all over me, but Guitar Center? That's a whole 'nother thing and no thank you, sir. Not again. Then I hid his Gamecube in the dryer and wrapped a teeny tiny box with a note inside telling him to go look there. It was a hit.

As we opened our presents I was delighted to see that the box I suspected was a tripod for my camera was not only what I wanted but way better than I asked for. It is fancy and pretty and I love it. I also received the photoshop software I wanted and can't wait to try it out just as soon as I get it loaded onto my system. I was also very surprised to open a box containing a Survivor hat and buff from one of my very favorite seasons. I literally squealed.

I also surprised myself with a couple of things that I'd bought and wrapped for myself and marked them from "Santa", then forgot that I'd done it. Sometimes I'm about as sharp as a marble and I got laughed at for my goof. The present-opening portion of our day was a great success and I was so thankful that for our third official Christmas together that we were finally in the same place and being alone for this one was nice and serene.

We had a lovely afternoon of lounging around, him playing video games, me napping, then he prepared and began cooking the prime rib. And let me tell you, it made the house smell so good we probably could have eaten the walls with a side of gravy. And kitty was high as a kite from rolling around in the fresh catnip she got in her stocking giving us much entertainment as she flipped around like a harbor seal.

We then had our dinner time a little pooped upon with waiting for my friend Matty to show up for a quick visit with some friends of his, who finally arrived right when all of our food was done. But they only stayed long enough for one of the girls to slightly insult me about 3 times and act generally obnoxiously which I chose not to get mad about until the next day so Merry Fucking Christmas beyotch, you got a free pass.

After they all left we finally got to enjoy our (reheated) meal which was superb in it's simplicity and once we figure out how to get the rock-salt coating off that kind of meat we'll definitely have it again because, Jesus, prime rib. I couldn't decide if I should eat it or rub it on my boobs. The end to our nice day was spent watching a movie with our little Christmas tree twinkling away and then retiring to bed.

It was all I'd hoped for and more.

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